when the hundred and fifty participants in Sylvain Émard’s “Le Grand Continental” filed onto the plaza at the South Street Seaport, as part of the River to River Festival, and began dancing in unison. You knew it was going to happen, but, when it did, it was pretty impressive.

when, in Michael Clark’s “Who’s Zoo?,” at the Whitney Biennial, two men ran the length of the enormous space on the museum’s fourth floor, toward a curtain concealing a window, then picked up the curtain and stepped into the void beyond. It was unexpected, and delightful.

when Trajal Harrell, seated in one of the aisles at New York Live Arts during his work “Antigone Sr./Twenty Looks or Paris Is Burning at the Judson Church (L),” said, “Stop the show! Stop the motherfucking show!” It was funny and sharp and it was great theatre.

when William Wegman’s dog Bobbin watched wearily, jadedly, as different kinds of dancers paraded their talents before him in “Werk! The Armitage Gone Variety Show,” at Abrons Arts Center. It was the only moment of pure enjoyment in a difficult evening.

when Jack Ferver, in his show “Two Alike,” at the Kitchen, launched into a frantic repetition, faster and faster each time, of a scene from the movie “Return to Oz.” As in many parts of this piece, Ferver’s humor was shaded with sadness.

when Larry Keigwin’s “Megalopolis” began, in the choreographer’s season at the Joyce, and for the entire thirteen minutes that it lasted. It was a non-stop outburst of crazy, happy dance—a perfect ending to a completely enjoyable show.

when the audience entered the brand-new BAM Fisher space for its inaugural performance, of Jonah Bokaer’s “Eclipse,” and saw Anthony McCall’s tilted grid of light bulbs, a beautiful and transfixing set for Bokaer’s disciplined work.

when, as part of Danspace Project’s fiftieth-anniversary celebration of the Judson Dance Theatre, Lucinda Childs performed her solos “Pastime” (1963) and “Screen” (1965). It was a privilege to see these live, in such close proximity.

when Julia Burrer began moving in a solo in Doug Varone’s “Carrugi,” in his season at the Joyce. She draws the eye immediately with her luscious, liquid movement. She has the most beautiful arms in dance.

when, in Ballet Next’s performances at the Joyce, Michele Wiles balanced on one leg on pointe, her eyes closed, and slowly raised her free leg to the front, in Mauro Bigonzetti’s “La Follia.” The audience held its breath.

when, at the beginning of “That Fish Is Broke,” Simone Forti walked onto the floor at St. Marks, feeling the space around her. That’s all she had to do.